Like A Stone
by laurie5
Summary: Donna has to face life after Rosslyn


Title:Like a Stone  
Spoilers:What kind of day has it been  
Category:Josh/Donna; Angst  
Summary:Donna has to face live after the shooting in Rosslyn..  
Disclaimer:Characters belong to Aaron Sorkin. Lyrics to "Like A Stone" written by Chris   
Cornell.  
Author:Laurie   
-------------------------------  
  
"On a cobweb afternoon  
In a room full of emptiness  
By a freeway I confess  
I was lost in the pages  
Of a book full of death  
Reading how we'll die alone  
And if we're good, we'll lay to rest  
Anywhere we want to go."  
------------------------------  
  
She had somehow managed to get through the last 5 days. People would later have to tell her   
how, cause she wasn't able to even remember the last 24 hours.   
Everyone at work was in a constant state of shock. Lost for words most of the time even   
though one of their biggest tasks these days was to explain to the public what had happened   
and how they were planning to deal with it. How to deal with the assasination attempt on the   
president, his bodyman and his staff in general, how to deal with the bruises on their bodies and   
their souls - and how to deal with the loss of their Deputy Chief of Staff, one of their key-  
figures for the everyday-work in the West Wing, and above all their good friend.  
They had never fooled themselves into thinking they were anything else. Yes, they had gone   
out for a beer, from time to time, just as they do on other workplaces, and given the working   
hours, they had spent more time with each other then they had with their families. But, that's   
exactly what they were not. Family. They all had to face the loss of a dear, a close friend and   
maybe an alliance in some cases, but he was not a son, a brother or a husband to them. Those   
cliches were only consorted by the less respectable members of the press, for whom it was not   
enough to report about the work the people in the White House did, but who needed to find   
heartwarming stories around them, to sell their papers.  
  
And that was exactly what made it so hard for Donna to find any comfort in the company of   
her co-workers. They had met almost every day in either one of their appartements, or in some   
Georgetown Bar, basically to find comfort, to keep the others from being alone in all this.  
As usual on those occasions, after a while you start to remember funny little anecdotes and you   
tell them to each other, smiling , maybe even laughing at times . Josh's first hung-over meeting   
with Joey Lucas and his famous press conference - the secret plan to fight inflation - were   
always on the top of the list. Donna knew those stories were also supposed to soothe her, to   
make her remember Josh in a light and painless way, but for her everything was different from   
now on, and for the last 5 days she had lived with the feeling, that nothing now would ever   
come to any good. Worse than that, she had noone to confide in. Sure, some of her friends at   
work might have wondered from time to time, if she really had no other feelings for Josh than   
friendship or loyalty , but they hadn't taken the matter seriously enough to even make a joke   
about it.   
It's not as if she had gotten along that great before. There had been many times, when she   
thought she would absolutely lose her mind over her feelings for Josh, and many more, when   
she was convinced, that the only way to get through this was to leave her job. But when she   
would come into the office the next morning, and would see him already sitting at his desk, she   
knew, she could never leave him, because even working with him made her happy. Having him   
around, talking and joking with him, was her equivalent to a relationship, and for nothing in   
the world would she miss out on any of it.   
  
And then there was still the memory of those few moments she treasured, when he had held   
her close, hugging her or dancing with her. She had tried not to forget how it felt when he held   
her in his arms last Christmas after having given her the book. But like everthing else , it   
seemed to fade away with him, and that was the genuine feeling of loss, she had to deal with.   
The fact, that he not was simply marrying another woman or finding another job, scenarios she   
had feared, but learned to prepare herself for, but the realisation, that she could no longer ask   
his opinion, or rather tell him hers, that he would never again argue with her about her dating   
habits or be there to comfort her after a lousy day. Because without being aware of it, that was   
what he had done many times. Just by being there, talking to here and taking her seriously.   
Surely he had been the only one among the Senior Staffers, who took the time, to do that.   
  
That ist why, during the last week she had created her own ritual of dealing with her sorrow.   
When meeting with the others, she excused herself early and left to spent the nights in Josh's   
appartement drawn to the only place in town,where his present was still felt . He had given her   
his spare keys, shortly after they started working in the White House, so she could drop off or   
pick up some of his paperwork during lunch hours, or whenever she was allowed to go home   
before he did.   
  
The first time, she hadn't planned on staying for the night. Officially she had gone there to   
fetch all files Josh had taken home with him in the last weeks, so Leo could work through   
them, and find new ways to structure his offices until a new Chief of Staff was found. Another   
alltogether horrible thought.   
Being there had made her feel surprisingly calm. She just sat on his living room couch crying   
until she fell asleep, shortly before the sun came up.   
  
  
------------------------------  
In your house I long to be  
Room by room, patiently.  
I'll wait for you there  
Like a stone.  
I'll wait for you there   
Alone  
--------------------------------------  
  
From then on she had gone home every night after work, picked up her clothes for the next   
day and drove over to his appartement. She figured, that since Josh's mother wouldn't arrive   
until the day of the funeral no arrangements concerning his appartment were soon to be made.   
Josh's mother. Donna couldn't even start to imagine how that woman must feel right now.   
She had lost all of her family, had survived both of her children. She dreaded the moment of   
first meeting her, because there was absolutely nothing of any comfort to say to Mrs. Lyman.   
And what would it mean to her anyway, coming from her son's assistant? Just another person   
who worked with, or rather for him. His mother, like so many others would never know what   
an immense impact her son had had on her, and how much she had loved him.   
Donna feared, that it was completely inappropriate to tell her at this moment, although at   
times she wondered if, maybe, Mrs. Lyman would like the thought, that her son was not only   
respected or appreciated, but also loved during his time in Washington. Thoughts like these ran   
through Donna's head, during the nights she spent in Josh's appartement.   
  
The second night, she walked through all of the rooms, and after a while found herself on the   
balcony overlooking the Potomac. She still felt like the door was about to slam shut any   
minute, and he would just stand there, scowling her for letting the cold air in. She also laid in   
his bed for a while where she could still smell him, but she didn't dare to sleep in it. Once again   
she retreated to the couch, like the night before. Josh had never intended her to sleep in his   
bed, and she felt uneasy invading that part of his privat life. She felt more comfortable in those   
parts of the flat he had invited her to, several times before.   
It was just a couple of nights later - when she realised, that she couldn't come here anymore,   
once the funeral was held, and his posessions were shipped back to his mother's home in   
Connecticut, that she granted herself the luxury of covering herself for the night in his blankets   
and his smell.   
It was then, that she started to think about how her life was supposed to go on.   
On a primary basis the facts were clear. She would no longer work in the White House, no   
matter how much everyone was trying to tell her, that things would get better eventually.   
Sitting in front of Josh's office day by day was out of the question and Leos proposal to   
transfer her to Mrs. Bartletts team was not very tempting either. The other night, Sam had told   
her he could find her a job in his former law firm, an offer that seemed reasonable at the time,   
but thinking about it now made her feel sick to her stomach. She simply could not imagine a   
life without Josh around. No matter how far she'd run.   
  
  
  
----------------------------------  
  
And on I read   
Until the day was gone  
And I sat in regret  
For all the things I've done  
For all that I've blessed  
And all that've wronged  
In dreams until my death  
I will wander on  
-----------------------------------  
  
Then after the third or forth night, she no longer felt like he was about to come in. She   
couldn't hear his voice shouting for her anymore, and she knew that some time in the future   
she wouldn't be able to remember his voice at all.   
  
She started talking to him. Asking him, what he thought she should do, or where she should   
go. Josh once again became the only one able to comfort her in this terrible pain taking control   
of her. She told him how she once had imagined, what it would have been like, if Josh had   
been her friend, way back, when she needed.consolation almost as much as now. During the   
time when her parents got divorced, and it seemed as if her whole world came tumbling down.   
It had just been a funny little mind game, given the fact, that she was 12 at the time, which   
would make him 24 and a law student. Still, she imagined, he could have been a friend of her   
brother's or something, flirting or joking with her, before going over to Michael's room. For   
sure she would have had a crush on him eagerly awaiting every time he would come around   
the house.   
She had always planned on telling him about that fantasy, just to make him laugh, and at the   
same time show him, how important he was for her. Something he probably didn't know.   
There was never the right time or place, just to thank him for being a good friend, and a   
confidante. Not that she had planned to tell him about her true feelings - that would have been   
totally out of place - but it grieved her that there had never been a moment where she could   
simply thank him for being there.   
  
And now, in her quiet moments with him she knew that she had failed him. Not only because   
she never had the courage to tell him what a great person he was but also because she had   
often been too moody or too bitchy for him to handle. Sure, he had been difficult, too, but he'd   
had a country to run, or at least help run it, and given that matter it was amazing how much   
patience he'd had for her little anecdotes about "Life - A hundred years ago", or her latest   
date.   
  
She had failed, and even though she knew it was a stupid thought to begin with, naturally she   
had spent endless nights, wondering what would have happened, if she had come with him to   
Rosslyn. Probably everthing would have happened just as it had. But maybe, just maybe, she   
would have held him back, inside the Newseum. Pestering him about some inane fact she had   
picked up, or jealously keeping him away from his female fans waiting outside. Maybe they   
would have left the building together talking, and hearing the first shots, he would not have run   
to the gates to look out for the others, but instead threw himself and her to the ground, making   
sure they were safe. Apart from her girlish view of the "hero" Josh Lyman, that possibility   
wasn't all unrealistic. But as is was - he died alone.   
And then of course, there was this one other option.   
She would have been shot instead of him. She would have died rather than be living past his   
death.   
The thought manifestered itself, and by the sixth and last night in Josh's home, after roaming   
the rooms for just another time, she finally knew what to make of that thought.   
  
---------------------------------  
On my deathbed I will pray  
To the gods and the angels  
Like a pagan to anyone  
Who will take me to heaven  
To a place I recall  
I was there so long ago  
The sky was bruised  
The wine was bled  
And there you led me on.  
---------------------------------- 


End file.
